


Spiked Eggnog

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Eggnog, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pack Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laughter rings in his ears all around him as Stiles walks into his kitchen, a nice buzz in his head from the spiked eggnog. Having a Christmas party for the pack was a great idea, he thinks to himself as he sees all his friends gathered around the food and drinks at the table. His dad is at work, but he okayed the party with him beforehand anyway. It's like he's having two Christmases, one right now with his friends, and one tomorrow with him and his dad. </p><p>The pack had exchanged gifts earlier, and now they were just finishing off the snacks and drinks. Lydia had somehow concocted eggnog that got the werewolves of the group pleasantly buzzed as well, which Stiles had thought was great. Until he notices that someone is missing in their little ragtag bunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiked Eggnog

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [12 Days of Sterek](http://12daysofsterek.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. The embedded art in the fic that goes with the story was by the talented [Megan](http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/). Thank you to Megan for drawing such wonderful art and collaborating with me on this super last minute! You are the best! :D
> 
> Enjoy and happy holidays! :)

Laughter rings in his ears all around him as Stiles walks into his kitchen, a nice buzz in his head from the spiked eggnog. _Having a Christmas party for the pack was a great idea,_ he thinks to himself as he sees all his friends gathered around the food and drinks at the table. His dad is at work, but he okayed the party with him beforehand anyway. It's like he's having two Christmases, one right now with his friends, and one tomorrow with him and his dad.

The pack had exchanged gifts earlier, and now they were just finishing off the snacks and drinks. Lydia had somehow concocted eggnog that got the werewolves of the group pleasantly buzzed as well, which Stiles had thought was great. Until he notices that someone is missing in their little ragtag bunch.

"Uh guys? Where's Derek?" Stiles asks the group. They all look at him, eyes not really focused after all the alcohol they've imbibed. Scott shrugs and then looks at Isaac.

Isaac points to the back door and loudly whispers, "I think he took the extra bottle of wolf nog."

Stiles quirks his eyebrow and rolls his eyes. Figures Derek would drown himself alone in alcohol once it finally worked on him. From what he could gather, the effects didn't last quite as long on the werewolves as it did for the humans of the group, but it seems like Derek was going to try to keep it going as long as he could.

He leaves the others and goes outside because no one else makes a move to save Derek from himself; a job Stiles has gotten way too used to, unfortunately. He can hear the others going back to their conversations, a few of them making comments about how it's late and they should get home. He ignores them as he shuts the back door behind him once he's outside. Allison and Danny volunteered to be the DDs, and they can take care of the rest of them. Lydia had already started putting things away and throwing away the giftwrap. He'll clean up the rest once they leave.

The air is chilly out, and Stiles thinks he probably should have brought a coat, especially if he ends up sitting outside with Derek while he drinks the rest of the bottle. He looks around the porch and backyard and spots Derek slumped over the deck railing, bottle of “wolf nog” half empty, dangling in his hands. Stiles would leave Derek be and just go back inside, but the railing is rotting, and he’s a little worried it might not be able to hold Derek up. He and his dad don’t really go out on the deck much anymore; it had been something his mom had wanted, had bugged his dad about till he finally gave in and built it himself. Another reason why it’s not exactly structurally sound anymore.

Stiles sidles up next to Derek, resisting the urge to lean on the railing himself because he really is worried it might give. Derek glances over to him when Stiles bumps his shoulder with his own, letting him know he’s there. He gives Stiles a nod of acknowledgment and takes another swig from the bottle, then holds it up in offer to Stiles. Stiles bites back a grin and shakes his head, and Derek takes another swig. When he does, he sways into Stiles a little, and Stiles holds him up, his hand against his back. He swears he’s not imagining when Derek leans into him more, leaning back against Stiles’ hand as he tilts to take another sip.

“You gonna finish off that whole bottle?” Stiles asks, concerned about what it might do to Derek if he actually does. It’s not like Lydia had tested it out in large doses. Surely, it couldn’t be healthy for Derek to drink it all.

Derek giggles, like actually giggles, and Stiles has to hide the shock on his face when Derek looks over to him and grins.

“This stuff is good,” Derek says, and for how much he’s had, Stiles is surprised it doesn’t come out more slurred.

“Don’t you want to save some for later? Not sure how long it takes for Lydia to make a batch, and I think you’ve got the last bottle.”

“I like it. A lot,” Derek says after another drink and giggles. Geez what is in this stuff? Stiles won’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy seeing Derek like this, all smiles and laughter, but it’s just so different than his normal state that it’s hard for Stiles to wrap his brain around the fact that this is the same growly, scowling Derek Hale.

“We’ll have to keep this stuff in stock if it makes you so happy,” Stiles mutters.

Suddenly, Derek stops giggling and turns to face Stiles. “It doesn’t,” he says, his face almost back to its usual seriousness.

“It doesn’t, what?”

“It doesn’t make me happy.”

“Uh… okaaaaay. You know, it’s late, Derek, maybe it’s time to go inside… drink some water?” Stiles says, taking the bottle from Derek’s hand and trying rather unsuccessfully to pull Derek away from the railing and back toward the door.

“No, Stiles, you don’t understand.”

“Probably because you aren’t making sense because you are drunk… so let’s go back inside…”

Derek grabs Stiles by the shoulders, knocking the bottle out of his hand. The last of the eggnog spills out on to the deck, and they both look down at the puddle. Derek looks at it as if he’s mourning the loss of a friend.

“I liked that…” Derek says, his tone almost whiny.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “You’re the one that bumped it out of my hand. It’s probably for the best… Clearly, you do not need any more of that. Come on, big guy.” Stiles takes Derek’s hands off his shoulders and keeps hold of one hand to lead him back to the house. Derek doesn’t budge from his spot.

“Freaking werewolves,” Stiles mumbles under his breath. “Seriously, Derek? Come on!” He yanks harder, and this time Derek does move but doesn’t stop until he’s knocked them both down on the ground. Stiles is on his back, and Derek is on top of him, their chests pressed together. Stiles is doing his best to ignore the pain in his shoulder from when he landed and the fact that Derek _is on top of him_.

Derek lifts his head up enough to stare down at Stiles but doesn’t make any move to get off of him. “Sorry,” he says, still staring down at Stiles.

“Uh, that’s okay,” Stiles says. He can’t help but stare right back at Derek, and even though Derek’s weight on his chest is making it hard to breathe, he doesn’t try to shove Derek off or make any other move to push him away. He’s maybe thought about this ever since the kanima incident, when their positions were reversed, and the way Derek is looking at him isn’t helping dispel the fantasies he’s had. Although, the alcohol hadn’t factored into it, and Stiles should maybe do something before one of them does something they’ll regret or won’t remember.

“You do though,” Derek says, his eyes earnest.

“I do what?” Stiles says because something is noticeably missing.

Derek huffs. “That stuff doesn’t make me happy,” he says looking over his shoulder at the empty bottle on the ground before returning his gaze to Stiles.

“Right…” Stiles knows he’s slightly intoxicated himself, but Derek is not making any sense. “That doesn’t make you happy,” he repeats, and Derek nods. He waits, staring down at Stiles, wanting him to make the connection that he can’t voice at the moment. Stiles thinks, furrows his brows in concentration because alcohol makes him a little foggy, too. “The nog doesn’t make you happy… but… I do?”

Derek grins and nods again, his face closer to Stiles’s and his nose brushes across the bridge of Stiles’s with the bob of his head. “Yes,” Derek whispers, and his lips are so close that Stiles can feel the warm breath against his own lips that escapes Derek’s mouth with the uttered word. His eyes flutter shut, and he doesn’t move because he thinks Derek’s going to kiss him, which he wants so badly for that to happen even though moments before he thought it wasn’t smart since they were both intoxicated.

But right at that moment, Isaac slams open the back door and stumbles out. Derek grunts and slowly gets off of Stiles and stands up, holding out a hand for Stiles to take. At least Stiles can take small comfort in the fact that he didn’t scramble off of him. Once they are both up, they turn back to Isaac, who is giving them both a grin, which quickly turns into an innocent look like he didn’t see anything.

“Uh… we’re leaving,” Isaac says, thumbing over his shoulder at everyone else gathering their coats and gifts.

Stiles nods and steps to move past Isaac back into the house, but Isaac stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Slight problem…,” Isaac says.

“Which is?”

Isaac frowns. “We didn’t account for Derek, and there’s kind of no room in Allison or Danny’s cars to take him back with us.” He gives Derek an apologetic look. “Lydia thought he’d be fine enough to drive himself, but…” He glances over their shoulders at the discarded bottle and shrugs.

Stiles looks back at Derek, who is frowning so hard it must hurt. Stiles definitely isn’t coherent enough to take Derek back himself, which really only leaves one option.

“It’s fine,” he says, “Derek can crash here until it wears off.” He turns back to Derek and gives him a small smile, and Derek’s shoulders relax in relief.

“Great!” Isaac says and moves out of the way for Stiles and Derek to come back inside.

The group says their goodbyes and thanks to Stiles. Lydia tells him where she put the leftovers, emphasizing that the wolf nog is all gone, and after everyone gets hugs and a few kisses on the cheek, Stiles and Derek are alone in the entryway.

"Welp," Stiles says turning to face Derek. "Looks like it's just you and me, big guy."

He pats Derek on the chest as he walks past him back to the kitchen. There's not much left for him to cleanup because Lydia's taken care of it. There are a few dishes in the sink, and he moves to rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher. He can hear Derek coming into the kitchen, so he keeps talking.

"You can crash on the couch for a couple hours till the nog wears off." Stiles shuts the dishwasher and turns to find Derek a lot closer to him than he thought he was. "Umm, Derek?"  
  
Stiles finds himself backing up against the kitchen counter because Derek is all up in his space. Of course Stiles backing up does nothing to stop Derek from continuing to move forward until he's caging Stiles in with his arms on either side of him, palms flat on the counter.

He swallows audibly. “Derek? Hey there, uh…” He doesn’t quite know what to do, and he kind of loses any brain functioning when Derek leans in and nuzzles his neck.

“You smell good,” Derek mumbles against Stiles’s neck, and it tickles.

“Thanks?” Stiles squeaks out when Derek starts licking him. “I think it’s time we get you in bed, big guy.”

“Are you coming?” Derek asks, pulling back just enough to stare into Stiles’s eyes.

“To bed?”

Derek nods and gives him a look like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but what? Derek wants to go to bed with him? God, Stiles wants to say yes so badly, but Derek is not himself right now. When he sobers up, surely Derek’s going to hate Stiles for letting him do things like lick and nuzzle him and cuddle him. But, Stiles can only put up so much of a fight.

“I could… uh sit with you I guess? For a little bit?” Stiles says, thinking that he could stay with Derek until he passes out, and then sneak away so Derek won’t wake up confused and angry with an armful of Stiles.

In answer, Derek smiles dopily and leans more on to Stiles. Stiles struggles, but he eventually walks them both over to the couch. Derek falls onto the couch and takes Stiles with him.

Stiles tries to maneuver, but Derek is being extra clingy and refusing to unwrap his arms from around Stiles. Stiles huffs and gives up and makes himself comfortable against Derek’s chest, with the plan that in ten minutes Derek will be out cold enough for Stiles to untangle himself from him.

~

When Stiles wakes up, it's to the sound of someone banging pots and pans in the kitchen, most likely his dad. He nuzzles into his pillow, although it seems his pillow decided to grow hair overnight...

Shit. Derek.

Stiles opens one eye to see Derek still sleeping, and they are much more wrapped around each other than he remembers them being when they fell into the couch. There's a blanket over both of them too, which he is pretty sure is courtesy of his dad. Geez, what on earth did his dad think of them when he came home last night?

He lifts his head up to see if he can find a way out of this, this being a way to climb off of Derek without waking him, but yeah, not happening. In fact when he tries to move his arm, Derek's arms get tighter and he pulls him in closer. And then he hears Derek mumble out,

"Stay…. Comfortable."

And then Derek fucking rubs his nose along Stiles's temple, and kisses the top of his head, like he does it all the time. How much wolf nog did the man drink that he's still drunk?!

"I'm sober, Stiles," Derek whispers. Oops, guess Stiles said that out loud.

Stiles lifts his head to stare wide eyed at Derek because what?

"And... You're okay with this?" Stiles asks looking down at where their chests are pressed together, shifts his leg where it's tangled between Derek's.

"Are you?" Derek asks, voice unnervingly neutral.

Stiles narrows his eyes. "I asked you first."

Derek rolls his eyes. "I remember everything I said yesterday and I meant it. I didn't say it very eloquently, but I... I like you. Have for a while." Derek's cheeks flush and his gaze moves everywhere but at Stiles.

Stiles's heart skips at his words and his lips curl up in a smile.

"That wasn't the nog talking?"

"It helped, but no."

Stiles's grin widens. He moves his face in closer to Derek's, hesitating briefly before brushing his lips against Derek's. Derek presses in more and slides his fingers through Stiles's hair, pulling him down to deepen the kiss.

It's brief but absolutely wonderful, and Stiles could kiss Derek forever. Except that can't happen because his dad walks in and clears his throat.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't see that," the Sheriff says, making Stiles bury his face in Derek's neck. "If you two are both up, you can help me make breakfast."

"Yes sir," Derek says at the same time Stiles says, "Okay, Dad."

The Sheriff laughs to himself and disappears back into the kitchen.

"Guess we have to get up now," Derek says, stretching his arms above his head.

Stiles groans as he climbs off of Derek and stands up. Derek moves so he's in a sitting position on the couch, and Stiles extends his hand to help him up. Derek accepts it, only to pull Stiles down into his lap.

"We should give you nog more often," Stiles mutters around a smile. Derek shakes his head and pulls him into another kiss.

"Don't need it," Derek says against Stiles's lips. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Stiles repeats, pecking Derek on the lips before he stands back up before his dad gets suspicious and comes back in.

The rest of the day is uneventful. Christmas is usually a low key holiday at the Stilinski's, so they eat, open presents, and watch Die Hard. Derek stays the whole time, sticking close to Stiles's side. The Sheriff only embarrasses them briefly, and he doesn't seem too upset that his son fell asleep tangled around Derek.

But all in all it's one of the best Christmases he's had in a long time. When he tells Derek that, Derek kisses him and tells him he feels the same.

"Next year's, though," Stiles mumbles into Derek's jaw, "will be even better."

"Anything will be better with you," Derek says under his breath, his face quickly flushing.

"You are such a romantic sap." Stiles playfully hits Derek's chest. "I love it." The "you" is implied, and they both know it but ignore it for now.

Maybe by next Christmas, it won't be implied anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Megan on [her main tumblr](http://mianewarcher.tumblr.com/) or her [Teen Wolf specific tumblr](http://miathewolfanddarkthings.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  
> 
> Come say hi on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


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